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Jul 2011
Ears filled with sounds of clicking stones beneath my feet.
Eyes itch with dust from the path that stretches in front.
Skin caressed firmly by the winds urgent passing.
Nose assaulted from the stench of horses waste.
Mouth blasted with memories of past journeys this way.
Lungs labour at the familiar distance fondly.
Mind composed calm with only one focus, home.
Elouise Roux
Written by
Elouise Roux
481
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